


Summer's Out of Reach

by reinkist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Day 1, Drinking, Fluff and Angst, Humanstuck, M/M, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, UST, davekatweek, musician au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4461992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinkist/pseuds/reinkist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat is a bartender in a southern college town. Dave is a musician on tour through the eastern US. Karkat had given up long ago on his life ever changing, but sometimes life-changing events are nothing but small, quiet moments, shared between two people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Boys of Summer by Don Henley](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6z_NfTe6SI), which almost perfectly embodies the mood of this fic imo

It's Friday night, and the bar is pretty much deserted. It's the first week of August, so even though it's after 8:00 the sun still slants golden through the shutters on the western wall. Dust motes hang suspended in the still air, and Karkat tries to fan himself with a cardboard coaster. He feels damp with sweat from head to toe.

He glances at his phone. 8:24. The bar will be open for the next five and a half hours, and the prospect of customers is really not looking so good. This shit town shrinks in size by a factor of four when the university isn't in session, and school won't start up for another two weeks. Karkat tries to console himself with the fact that even though at the moment he has a severe lack of tips, he also doesn't have to wrangle about two hundred drunk kids.

A couple of bands are supposed to play in an hour or so. One of them, a two-piece, is already there, fucking around on the pinball machine in the corner, a couple of cheap-ass beers in their hands. Another band should be there any time -- a four-piece, he thinks? And oh yeah, one touring band, maybe?

A kid with a backpack shuffles in and makes a beeline for the bar. "Where should I load in?"

Karkat looks up from his phone. "Oh, hey. You can come in the back, there's an alley back there, just stick that brick in the door so it doesn't shut all the way." He gestures vaguely towards the back corner. The kid wanders off again, and Karkat looks back down at his phone.

I AM SO FUCKING BORED RIGHT NOW.  
what exactly do you want me two do about iit?  
LISTEN TO ME COMPLAIN, OBVIOUSLY.  
why dont you try doiing your job liike a fuckiing adult?  
FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE.  
ARE YOU AND ARADIA COMING DOWN TONIGHT?  
I'M FUCKING DYING OVER HERE.  
2orry, kk, we cant toniight.  
WHAT? WHY?  
ff ii2 iin town.  
OF FUCKING COURSE.  
YOU GUYS ARE GROSS.  
you only wii2h you were thii2 gro22.  
UGH.  
I HOPE YOU BREAK YOUR DICK.  
hehehehe  
2uck iit, kk

Karkat rolls his eyes and shoves his phone back in his pocket. The kid is back, trying to keep the door open with one beat-up sneaker while maneuvering an amp that's got way more meat on its bones than he does.

He finally manages to drag the amp over by the stage, and wanders back over to the bar. He's taller than Karkat by about half a head, all scrawny legs and blond curls. "Is there a band discount for beer?"

Karkat leans his head in one hand. "Domestics are two bucks, the shit on tap is three. And you can get some two dollar tater tots or three dollar cheese sticks, if you want."

"What's good on tap?"

Karkat sighs internally. "This one local brewery makes a pretty good IPA."

"Sure, I'll get that." He's fidgeting with the bottom hem of his baseball tee, and hasn't he been inside for long enough to take his sunglasses off yet?

Karkat reaches for a glass, then turns and gives the kid an appraising look. "Can I see an ID?" The kid starts a little, and reaches for his back pocket. His wallet is red canvas, and seriously fraying at the corners.

1993\. Jesus fucking christ. Karkat can see the rest of his life spreading before him, and it's completely full of god damned kids being old enough to drink. This particular kid wanders off again, beer in hand, to the few mismatched tables against the far wall. He sits down, pulls out his phone, and puts in earbuds.

ARE YOU COMING TO THE BAR TONIGHT?  
I Cant Tonight Karkat  
DAMMIT...WHY NOT?  
I Have A Large Amount Of Prep Work To Do For The Coming Semester  
We Are Changing To A New Textbook And I Admit I Have Not Been As Diligent With My Preparation As I Could Have Been During The Summer Months  
ALRIGHT, FINE.  
I Do Wish I Could Come  
DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT.

It looks like it's shaping up to be Karkat alone with three bands in the bar all night. He supposes he's had even slower nights than this, but it's better to be completely alone in here than to be in here with such a small number of other people. And musicians are usually some kind of needy.

It's ten minutes until 9:00, and the other band is finally dragging itself in. He waves them towards the back door, tells them about the brick, and internally groans as they wheel in this fucking enormous bass cabinet. What, do they think they're playing fucking Shea Stadium in here? Ugh.

PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE COMING TO THE BAR TONIGHT.  
YOU HAVE TO SAVE ME FROM COLLEGE-AGE MUSICIAN PURGATORY.  
1 C4NT SORRY  
TH4T DUD3 VR1SK4 W4S SL33P1NG W1TH JUST 3ND3D 1T W1TH H3R SO W3 4R3 G3TT1NG BL4Z3D 4ND W4TCH1NG N1C C4G3 MOV13S  
WAIT, WHICH GUY WAS T  
ACTUALLY, NO, NO, NO, DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT THAT, PLEASE.  
SORRY K4RK4T  
UGH, FORGET IT.

Terezi was his last hope.

Half of the four-piece is fucking around with the PA, trying to get the microphones to work. The drummer is setting up his kit, and the guitarist is plugging and unplugging shit on her pedalboard while trying out intermittent mic checks.

The band that arrived first look a little shellshocked at the fact that something is actually happening, and they run off through the back door, presumably to get the rest of their gear. The kid from the other band is still typing on his phone, totally checked out from the world around him.

Finally, finally, the mics are working, and the first band is playing, way the fuck too loud. It's way the fuck too loud even all the way over at the bar, and Karkat wishes again that he could remember to bring some fucking earplugs.

The band isn't completely terrible, Karkat guesses, though the singer is massively off key most of the time, and Karkat is really, really, really not in the mood for shitty punk-influenced garage rock.

Not soon enough, they're done, and mobbing the bar after their shit is off the stage. The drummer orders the whole band a round of Fireballs, and they all slam them down, laughing and chattering. They get cheap shitty beer next, cheering their bassist on as he drains his whole glass in about two seconds flat.

They finally gather up their drinks and head toward a table just as the first sounds of the next band begin to drift over the bar. Karkat wipes down the counter, grumbling to himself about people chugging beer, how he wishes they would just leave that shit at home and not do it in a fucking public space where other people have to clean it up.

Wait...what is this?

Karkat glances back toward the stage. It's the blond kid, by himself. He's only just started, but it's music like Karkat has never heard. There's a minimalist electronic beat behind him, and it looks like he's using a loop pedal to layer sounds from a synthesizer. That doesn't even begin to describe it, though -- the sound swells, a shivery almost human-sounding vocal tone melding in and out with a catchy, low, squarewave melody.

And then he starts rapping.

For the first few seconds Karkat wants to facepalm, but the lyrics start to catch at him, the rhythm and cadence absolutely fucking flawless. He can't quite catch all of the words over the bar's shitty-ass PA, but what he hears, about searching, about time flowing on, about a place inside yourself that can't be filled no matter how hard you try...

It catches him, hooking under his sternum, pulling him closer.

He watches that kid intently for the rest of his set, leaning on the top of the bar, his head in one hand. He loves every song even more than the last, and he can't fucking believe it. Who is this kid, and why the fuck is he here in this shitty college town in Georgia playing to literally one person?

The set is over before Karkat is ready, and a weird feeling of loss sinks into his chest. He shakes his head, as if to shake himself back to reality, and looks around, not even sure what to do anymore. His eyes light on the taps, and he pours out another beer, keeping an eye on the kid as he lugs his shit off the stage.

"Hey, uh, this one's on me," Karkat calls out to him as he comes within conversation distance of the bar, holding up the beer like some sort of offering. The kid stops short, looking a little shocked that someone is even acknowledging him, and hesitantly comes over.

"Thanks, uh," he says, taking the beer and downing a mouthful.

"Do you have any CDs for sale?" Karkat blurts out. "I...I, uh, really liked your music."

The kid's eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline over his sunglasses. "Yeah, be right back." He sets his beer down on the bar, and scurries over toward the pile of his gear back by the stage. He digs around a bit in his backpack, and comes back with a CD-R.

"How much?" Karkat is digging out his wallet.

"Five dollars."

Karkat gives him ten. The kid tries to give him change back, but Karkat refuses to take it. "Dave Strider?" Karkat asks, looking at the home-printed front of the CD case.

"Yeah."

"I'm Karkat. Nice to, uh, meet you."

"Hi. Nice to meet you too." Dave looks a little lost, torn between sitting down and running off.

"Where are you from?" Karkat plunges into conversation, hoping to prompt the former.

"Houston." He buries his face in his beer.

Sigh. This kid doesn't seemt to be the best at conversations, but Karkat decides to keep trying. "Are you on tour for long? Where are you going?"

Dave swallows and licks the foam off his upper lip. "I'm making big circle, kind of, I went around through Louisiana and Alabama, and next I'm going to North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana..." he stops short, seemingly worried about listing off too many states. "Yeah."

"Shit, that's a really long way."

Dave shrugs, taking another sip. "The longest I ever have to drive in one day is like seven hours, between Memphis and Dallas, and that's not for like another three weeks, so? Between all the other towns it's only like two or three hours, so it doesn't feel that long."

Karkat nods. "Where are you staying?"

"Uh..." Dave seems to draw back in upon himself. "Uh, nowhere. My uh, car, probably."

God fucking damn it. Anger bursts in Karkat's chest, at the world, at the universe, at society for devaluing the astounding talents of some people so thoroughly that this kid has to fucking sleep in his fucking car even though he can make music like...that...

"Dude...fuck...Come stay at my place. Please. It's one room, so it's not that great." Dave opens his mouth, looks like he's going to refuse. Karkat holds up one hand. "No, no, seriously. I fucking mean it."

Dave ducks his head, but Karkat can see a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I guess, OK." He sits down at the bar.

Yessss.


	2. Chapter 2

The last band is much better than the first, but nowhere even close to touching Dave's music, in Karkat's opinion. It's a little quieter, just a baritone guitar and drums, more atmospheric and low-key. Yeah, ok, so this night isn't turning out to be a total unbearable disaster.

Karkat leaves Dave sitting at the bar to pour the first band another round of shots. Ugh. They're only getting more obnoxious the drunker they get. Karkat's old band got like that, too, at pretty much every show they'd ever played. He squirms a little, internally, because he personally had been just as bad.

The band wanders off again with yet another round of beers, and Karkat comes back over to where Dave's sitting at the bar.

"It's gonna be another two and a half hours before I can close, sorry about that," Karkat says, leaning over, elbows against lacquered wood dented by a thousand beer bottles.

"It's cool." Dave finishes texting and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

"So do you just play music? Or do you have another job?"

Dave shrugs. "I have this webcomic. I live off the ad revenue. It's not like, a whole whole lot? But it's enough."

"Oh. That's really fucking cool, actually." Karkat is genuinely impressed.

"What about...you?" Dave asks, the question almost hesitant. "Is this your place?"

Karkat waves a hand dismissively. "Fuck no. This place belongs to the sister of one of my best friends. She lets me work here. She doesn't care that I'm...uh. Not the best at customer service."

Dave laughs a little to himself.

Karkat can't help but smile. "I went to college here, and, well, now I'm that total fucking loser who never left."

"Dude, you're not the one who just played a show for an empty room," Dave points out, chin in his hands, mouth quirking upwards at the corners.

"It was not fucking empty! I was watching," Karkat retorts. "And at least you're trying to do something with your life. I pretty much blew my chance to do that..." He gestures vaguely. "...Fucking...ages ago."

Dave shrugs. "Sometimes I don't even know why the fuck I'm doing this, like, do I actually care that much about getting my music out there or whatever? Or do I just like traveling around, like some hobo from the '30s riding the rails or something? Drinking in a new place every night?" Dave takes a sip of beer, as if for emphasis. "Maybe I just like seeing new places. But sometimes I wonder if I'm just like..." His mouth twists a little. "Running."

Karkat doesn't really know what to say to that.

A group of 20-somethings burst in the door. Karkat can tell they're already drunk, probably from that other bar four blocks away. He gives Dave an eyeroll and an exaggerated sigh. Dave smiles.

The group takes way, way, way too long to decide on drinks, but luckily Karkat's pretty fluent in trashy drunk. He pours three beers from the taps, opens two bottles, and pours whiskey into a glass.

"Thanks, man!" The dude that got the whiskey is way too excited about it. He and his friends all make their way over to the stage, talking excitedly to each other, and start swaying to the music.

It feels like the last hour the bar is open takes about five times as long as it should. Only a couple more people wander through, trying to grab one more drink before all the bars close, and both other bands finally pack up and leave. Karkat doesn't even have to kick anyone out tonight, thank fuck.

"OK, let's get the fuck out of here," Karkat says with relief, after locking the money in the safe.

"What's your address?" Dave asks, holding up his phone.

"No, man, I live literally two blocks from here. Do you think your car is OK where it is?"

Dave thinks for a moment. "Yeah, probably. But my stuff..." He gestures back toward the stage.

"Just leave it here. I can let you back in in the morning."

Dave's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, uh, thanks. Let me, uh, get my bag..." He runs off toward the back corner. Karkat starts flipping off lights.

The air outside crashes into them, a nearly impenetrable wall of heat and humidity. The moon is super bright, creamy white against the deep, deep navy of the sky, and the trees around them are full of insects flipping out as loudly as possible. Karkat makes sure the doors are locked, and starts walking down the uneven sidewalk. Dave follows, backpack slung over one shoulder.

"It's just down here," Karkat calls over his shoulder, and turns into the dark driveway of a converted Victorian house. They make their way around the side and down the stairs to the basement apartment.

It's just one stuffy room plus a bathroom, the kitchen partitioned from the rest by a countertop with a sink in it. The rest of the room is dominated by a beat-up entertainment center with a pretty large flat-screen TV and an unfolded futon slash couch. The walls are the color of cocoa powder, and there's one badly-painted window with a thirty-year-old AC unit high up on the wall by the door. Karkat shuts the curtains around the window unit, switches it on, and goes around turning on all the lamps.

Dave tosses his backpack down by the futon, and kicks off his shoes. "It's cozy."

"Fuck you."

Dave lets out a surprised snort of laughter. He sits crosslegged on the futon, and looks unsure about whether or not he should have. Karkat resigns himself to the fact that those sunglasses seem to be staying on indefinitely. "Do you smoke? I have some weed, you know, as a thank you..."

Karkat gestures toward the side-by-side posters of Jimi Hendrix above the futon. "What do you think?" Dave gives a sheepish little grin. "Dude, I don't want to smoke all your weed. We can mix?"

Dave shrugs, and unzips the inside pocket of his backpack.

"You play guitar?" Dave asks after they'd negotiated the contents of the joint he is currently rolling, tongue sliding across the edge of the paper in an expert line. He nods toward the electric guitar propped up on a stand in the corner, one eyebrow cocked.

"Fuck yeah I do." Dave offers Karkat a lighter, then the joint between his thumb and index finger. "Thanks, man." He sits crosslegged on the futon next to Dave.

"Are you in a band?"

"Was," Karkat answers, smoke escaping his mouth. He exhales completely, and passes the joint back. "Like five or six years ago. We broke up."

"Oh, shit, sorry, dude."

"Just, seriously, stay away from uppers. They turn people into total fucking assholes." Dave snorts. "No, seriously. Our bassist used to be so chill. Then..." Karkat makes an exploding gesture. "Everyone started fighting all the time, and by the time I was over all that, I'd faded pretty far out of the scene, and, I dunno. I think about trying again, a fucking lot. But I can't write music worth a fuck, and everyone here is so much younger than me. It's hard to fit in with any of that shit."

Dave takes a long drag, nodding. "I've never really played in a band. Some friends I had in high school and I would like, pass music back and forth, adding overdubs and shit, but we never tried to play anything live. I, uh, don't actually know shit about music," he admits, exhaling completely. "Theory and shit, I mean."

"I majored in guitar," Karkat says, a little wistfully. "I'm really fucking good."

Dave giggles, covering his mouth with one hand. Karkat can't help the smile that spreads across his face. Quiet is dispersing through his brain like a fine mist, and he feels the muscles of his shoulders unknot. He sinks back against the wall, a pillow under his lower back, and the coolness of the concrete bleeds blissfully through his shirt. Dave passes back to him, and he takes a long, leisurely hit.

Karkat's phone dings. He passes the joint back to Dave and digs it out of his pocket.

H3Y K4RK4T W4NT TO COM3 OV3R  
4R3 YOU OUT OF WORK Y3T  
W3 4R3 4BOUT TO W4TCH W1CK3R M4N  
I'LL HAVE TO PASS.  
AS MUCH AS I LOVE WATCHING HORRIFYING THINGS HAPPEN TO NIC CAGE, I'M JUST GOING TO HANG OUT AT HOME.  
TH4TS COOL  
SEE YOU LATER.

"That was my friend inviting me over to watch Wicker Man. Nah, I'm done," he says when Dave tries to pass back to him.

Dave gives a little giggle-snort. "The bees! Not the bees!"

Karkat laughs. "But I'm already hanging out with you, so fuck her."

Dave looks a little taken aback. "What, I mean, I wouldn't mind, if you..."

Karkat holds up one hand to stop Dave's sentence in its tracks. "Dude, I probably wouldn't have gone anyway. But I'm really," Karkat pauses, but lowered inhibitions start pushing words out of his mouth, "having a good time hanging out with you."

Dave ducks his head, smiling. "Me too."

"I'll be right back, I have to take a piss," Karkat says over the swell of warmth in his chest. Dave nods.

When he gets back, Dave is snooping around in his entertainment center, flipping through his record collection. "So do you pretty much only listen to dad rock?"

Karkat sputters, a loud laugh bursting out of him. Dave starts giggling, too, and Karkat joins him on the floor. "Whatever, asshole!" Karkat manages to get out. "That is some amazing music right there!"

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." Dave pulls out Escape by Journey. "You can't be serious about this music collection. You just can't." He puts the record sleeve up to his face, pointing excitedly at the album art. "Look! I'm a scarab ass-blasting out of a bubble!"

Karkat tries to grab the record from him, and they flail at each other, giggling like children. Dave finally lets Karkat take back the record, only to start pulling out DVDs.

"What the fuck! Is this like Dane Cook's entire filmography?"

"So what! I like those movies!"

Dave gapes at him. "How are you a real person."

Karkat shoves Dave's shoulder, laughter still bubbling up out of his chest. Dave shoves him back. Karkat throws Employee of the Month at him, and Dave blocks it with both arms, laughing uncontrollably.

Dave eventually seems satisfied with his appraisal of Karkat's media collection, and Karkat goes into the kitchen to microwave some pizza rolls.

They spend the rest of the night smoking and flipping around on network television, cracking each other up with comments about infomercials and late night Christian TV. The last thing Karkat remembers before he nods off completely is the perfect sense of contentment sinking deep into his bones, and Dave laughing quietly next to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Karkat's eyes blink open. The sun is shining through the drapes, through the gaps between the AC unit and the window frame, sending sharp little shafts of light across the wall. He's only been awake for about two seconds, and he already feels way too fucking hot. Fuck this fucking state, he should pack up and move north like right this fucking second. Dave stirs a little next to him, and yeah. Karkat is now fully and totally awake.

Welp. They'd ended up sharing a bed. That sure was a thing that happened.

Dave's sunglasses had gotten pushed halfway up his face during the night, and Karkat extricates himself from the futon as quietly as possible before he really starts noticing the way Dave's eyelashes lay against his cheeks, light against his skin, which is a shade darker than Karkat's own.

He grabs some clothes out of the closet, and quietly shuts the bathroom door. He turns the shower on about a quarter turn above freezing, and holy shit that is nice. His AC might suck balls, but at least the water is nice and cool.

When he finally comes back into the living room, Dave is awake and fucking around on his phone. "Morning," Dave says, raising one hand in greeting. His sunglasses are back down over his eyes.

"Morning," Karkat answers. "If you want a shower..." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder toward the bathroom.

"Oh, sweet jesus, yes," Dave answers, grabbing his backpack and disappearing into the bathroom.

CG: SO ARE YOU THREE READY TO JOIN THE LAND OF THE NON-FUCKING?  
CG: I WORK TONIGHT, BUT I'M SERIOUSLY GOING TO NEED SOMETHING TO TAKE MY MIND OFF SHIT.  
TA: )(i karkat!!  
CG: SHIT!!  
TA: Oops, wait...  
CG: OH, SHIT, FEFERI  
CC: T)(ere!  
CC: I stole Sollux's p)(one w)(en )(e got in t)(e s)(ower 38D  
CG: PRETEND YOU DIDN'T READ THAT FIRST PART? PLEASE?  
CC: )(e)(e)(e, I don't care!  
CC: I t)(ink we will want to )(ang out tonig)(t, though.  
CC: Are you still working at Porrim's bar?  
CG: YEAH, FROM NOW UNTIL THE END OF FUCKING TIME.  
CC: Poor Karkat 38(  
CG: YEAH, YEAH.  
CC: I can't wait to see you tonig)(t thoug)(!  
CG: YEAH, WE'LL CATCH UP THEN, OK?  
CC: See you t)(en!!

The shower shuts off, and a few minutes later Dave comes back out in a new change of clothes, hair dripping all over the shoulders of his shirt. "Oh shit, that was, balls to the wall, the best and most amazing shower of my life."

Karkat gives him a half-grin. "When do you have to leave? There's this place a couple of blocks away that does brunch."

Dave shrugs. "Sounds awesome. And, uh, my next show isn't until Tuesday night, so I'm, uh, not actually in any hurry?"

"Oh. Oh..." Karkat is a little stunned, his mental plan for the rest of the day now pretty much completely in pieces.

"But I can get out of your hair, I mean..."

Karkat frantically shakes his head. "It's whatever you want to do. I don't have to be anywhere until 6:00, so, I don't mind hanging out at all, it'll keep me from just lying around at home, seriously..."

Dave is twisting his hands in front of him, head ducked. "Yeah, uh, ok, then, brunch sounds really good."

"Fuck yeah. I'm starving."

The two of them emerge from Karkat's apartment, and fuck, it's bright. It isn't close enough to noon for the sun to be completely overhead yet, but the coolness of the early morning has already melted away and it's _hot_. A robin hops around on the driveway, pecking viciously at half a cicada.

The sidewalk is separated from the road by a line of trees, which cast stripes of blissful shade onto them as they walk. The streets are almost deserted. Only one car ever passes them, and they have to share the sidewalk for about half a second with a pair of school-age girls on scooters. But that's it.

Bells on a string jingle when they open the restaurant door, and there are no other customers inside yet. The dude with the mohawk behind the counter tells them to sit wherever, so Karkat leads them to his favorite booth, which is tucked into a bay window across from the front door.

"Ah, oh my god..." Karkat sighs in relief as he slides into his seat. A vent is blowing blissfully cold air indirectly up under the table from a couple of feet away. When Dave sits in the other seat, he gapes in disbelief when he feels it, too.

"Fuuuuuck..." Dave drops his head onto the table. "Holy fuuuuuck..."

Karkat laughs.

"I want to marry the person who invented air conditioning. Our babies would be air conditioners. I'd look after those little shits, make sure they grew up right..."

Karkat snorts good-naturedly, and flips open his menu. "Everything's good, seriously, but you have to try their gravy, it is fucking incredible."

Dave pushes himself upright again, nodding. The server comes over, setting out ice water and silverware. Neither of them can decide on food quite yet, but they both order coffee.

"Where are you from, originally?" Dave sort of blurts out, after the server leaves their table.

"Boston."

"Fuck, how long did it take you to get used to this heat?"

"Never."

They end up ordering a bunch of sides, from hash browns to biscuits and gravy, and splitting everything out of indecision.

"Dude, I got this," Dave says when the check comes, pulling out his wallet.

"No, man! What are you talking about?" Karkat starts pulling out money, too, but Dave starts ineffectually hitting his hand with a twenty-dollar bill when it approaches the check.

"Fucking, no, dammit, let me buy you breakfast," Dave insists, the $20 against Karkat's hand making this extremely soft thwapping noise, and the hilarity of the moment hits them both at the same time.

"Fine! Jesus," Karkat manages to get out, collapsing back against the booth, laughing.

"I have money, just not enough to like, stay at a hotel every fucking night," Dave says, laughing too, covering his mouth with one hand.

"Fine."

"Fine."

It's still hot as fuck outside.

"So what should we do?" Dave asks. "Anything good to do in town?"

"No."

Dave laughs. "I mean, before, I was just planning on wandering around, looking at stuff..."

Karkat shrugs. "There's a park in the center of town that has these enormous old trees, I don't fucking know." Dave shrugs back, and they start walking.

"What kind of music did you play?" Dave asks, hands shoved in his pockets.

"In school I focused on classical, specifically Spanish guitar," Karkat answers, "but the band I played in was metal."

Dave lets out a little surprised laugh. "Did you play lead? Like, fucking," he mimes playing a crazy metal solo high up on an air guitar neck.

Karkat rolls his eyes. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Hahaha, whoa. That's fucking badass."

Karkat feels warmth flood his cheeks. "It would have been more badass if our music didn't completely suck," he grumbles.

They come around the corner into the park. Most of the trees there had been planted shortly after the town was founded, about two hundred years ago, and they are fucking massive, trunks large enough for two people to wrap their arms around. Dave stares upwards at the extensive canopy of branches, his mouth open in amazement.

"Shit! Holy shit!" He takes off running, making loops around one tree after another. He waves both arms at Karkat from twenty yards away. "We don't have _anything_ like this at home!"

Karkat facepalms, his cheeks inexplicably hot. This fucking kid, what the hell.

They end up sitting on the gnarled roots of the largest tree in the park. Dave starts picking up the big spiky balls that had fallen from it, scrutinizing each one carefully, and hoarding them in his lap. The town seems to be waking up, finally, a few families on picnic blankets under the trees, kids screaming and running and cartwheeling.

"So have you always lived in Houston?" Karkat asks, back against the smooth bark of the tree.

"Yeah. I've never really thought about moving, it's kind of a fact of the universe that I live there? I dunno, though. This is the first time I've ever left town on my own." He laughs a little. "I don't know what I'm trying to say."

"Did you go to school there too?"

"High school, yeah. By the time I graduated I was already pretty internet famous so like, why college? I'd just land myself in crazy debt, for what?"

Karkat fiddles with a fallen leaf. "Heh. I feel like I should be giving you advice, like, college is important or whatever." He sighs. "But what do I fucking know? I got a useless fucking degree and a mountain of debt and am pretty much a total failure in life."

Dave's mouth twists. "Fuck the machine, dude."

Karkat throws a seed ball at him, and it bounces off his arm. Dave immediately dumps his entire lapful of them over Karkat's head.

Karkat glares and picks plant matter out of his hair. "I want to show you something. I think you'll like it."

They stand up and brush themselves off. The sun is high in the sky now, beating down relentlessly from between towering mountains of clouds. The humidity is ramping up, too, and Karkat wipes his forehead with the back of one hand.

They walk to the other side of town in a companionable silence, passing house after house from the turn of the last century, lawns overgrown with weeds, run down gas stations from the '50s, concrete and metal and stone, all overtaken by green.

"It's this tree," Karkat says, pointing across the street. The tree occupies its own patch of grass, surrounded by a chain connected to a post at each corner. The road splits around it, meeting back up at the other side. "It owns itself. Like, legally. No one can do shit to it. The man that owned this land before it was even a town loved it so much that he put that in his will."

Dave grins, looking both ways and darting across the street. He approaches the tree cautiously, as if it were a wild beast.

Karkat follows. "It's pretty sad that this is one of the most exciting things in this town, but yeah."

"No, dude, thank you for showing me this, seriously," Dave responds after a moment, head craned all the way back, looking straight up to the top of the tree.

He spends the next ten minutes taking pictures of the tree from different angles, and insists on taking a selfie of both of them beside it. Karkat complies, swept up a little in Dave's enthusiasm.

By the time they walk all the way back to Karkat's apartment, it's about 5:15. "I gotta go to work, but you can come hang out with me if you want." Karkat really hopes that didn't sound as desperate as it felt to say.

"Yeah, yeah! Definitely. Oops, I guess all my gear is still in there..."

"Don't worry about it." Karkat waves a hand. "There aren't even any bands playing tonight, just karaoke."

Dave's face lights up. "I am so there."

He parks himself in the same stool from the night before, typing away on his phone as Karkat gets everything ready to open. "Mind if I tweet that pic that has you in it?"

Karkat looks up from the till, a stack of ones in his hand. "Why the fuck would you want to?"

Dave's head tilts. "Why _wouldn't_ I want to?"

Karkat flushes all the way down from his cheeks to his chest. OK, the blushing is out of control. He needs to get ahold of himself. He shoves the money into the till and ducks under the bar, pretending to straighten up. "Do whatever, I don't care."

When Karkat comes back from unlocking the front doors, Dave is grinning from ear to ear. "Look, look, look," he says, waving his phone in Karkat's face.

@DaveStrider whos the cutie????

@DaveStrider holy shit dave you guys are TOO ADORABLE  #helpimdying

@DaveStrider omg you should keep him!!!

"The...fuck..." Karkat's mouth drops open. "What the fuck! I know for a fact that you only posted that a second ago!"

Dave shrugs, still grinning. Karkat is completely stunned. He goes about the rest of his opening routine in a kind of daze. For the first time, he really starts to feel the age gap between them. Karkat's not on Twitter. He doesn't even really have a good grasp on what it's _for_. And Dave is "internet famous"? What does that even fucking entail?

"Anything I can do?" Dave is leaning over the bar, chin in his hands, and the sinking feeling in Karkat's chest eases a bit.

"Nah, I'm good," he answers, feeling somewhat helpless.

The guy that runs the karaoke once a month comes in the front door, pushing some equipment in on a dolly, long greasy hair pulled back into a bun. He tosses a binder with all the available songs onto the bar, and continues on back to the stage. Karkat lets him do his thing.

The first group of customers burst in a few minutes later and crowd around the bar. Karkat hands out a slip of paper with every drink for people to write down their song choices, and before long there's someone on stage, doing a terrible off-key rendition of the banana boat song.

Karkat facepalms. "That guy comes in every single time and does that song, and nothing else. I don't fucking understand people."

Dave laughs. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out five dollars, waving it in the general direction of the taps. "Can I get a beer? I want to sing!"

"Oh, jesus," Karkat grumbles, but complies.

"Karkat!!" A voice is calling him from the door. His head snaps up just in time to see Feferi launch herself halfway over the bar. He lets her pull him into a hug, laughing a little as she squeezes him really fucking tightly. She smells like sunscreen. Aradia and Sollux are following behind her, and sit down on actual bar stools like actual people.

"Hey, Feferi," Karkat tells her when she finally releases him. "How's it going?"

"It's great!" She sits down next to Aradia, grinning ear to ear.

Aradia looks slyly up at Karkat. "Feferi won't tell you on her own, but she got a singing role in, uh..."

"Some opera with an Italian name," Sollux puts in.

Feferi huffs. "It's Il trovatore! It's not that fucking hard to say, guys!"

"Wow, congratulations, seriously," Karkat says, pulling shot glasses out from under the bar. "Still like Midori and vodka?"

"Hell yeah!" Feferi cheers.

Karkat pours out five of them. "This is Dave, by the way," he says, pointing at Dave, a few seats over, who waves. "Get the fuck over here. This is Sollux, and Aradia, and Feferi."

Feferi's face lights up. "Who is he?"

"I'm his kid," Dave says, jerking a thumb in Karkat's direction. "He took me in."

"Shut the fuck up," Karkat says, unable to stop the laughter in his voice.

"And now he's denying me!" Dave puts a hand to his chest. "See what I have to deal with?"

Feferi giggles, and picks up her shot. "Come on, everyone, toast!" The others follow suit, all clinking their glasses together.

"Oh jesus christ," Sollux gasps out, slamming his shot glass down on the bar. "I forgot how fucking foul that is." Karkat is grimacing. Dave is chugging his beer down like a champ.

"I like it," Aradia says, making eyes at Feferi.

"Do you guys want to sing?" Karkat holds up some karaoke slips.

Feferi grabs a couple of them, and she and Aradia start flipping through the binder, pointing and cackling at different song choices.

"So she really is doing well?" Karkat asks Sollux, quietly. He can tell Dave is pretending not to be listening.

Sollux grins a lopsided grin. "Yeah. She's really happy. Aradia and I are still cool with it, she never really did want to be tied down, you know?" Karkat nods. He's a little jealous of them. No, he's really fucking jealous of them.

Sigh.

Aradia and Feferi run off with one of the slips, pretty much unable to contain themselves, giggling like crazy.

"So where did you guys meet, again?" Sollux asks Dave.

"I played here last night. I'm on tour, and Karkat let me stay at his place."

Sollux nods. "Cool."

Feferi and Aradia come running back, and Feferi slaps both hands down on the bar. "Hit me again!"

Karkat rolls his eyes, smiling, and pours her another of those green monstrosities.

They sit through Brown Eyed Girl, Total Eclipse of the Heart, and Werewolves of London, before the karaoke guy gets on the microphone and calls "Feferi, Aradia, and Sollux" to the stage.

Sollux recoils as if burned. "No, no, fuck you guys, no fucking way." He keeps protesting as the girls drag him off, trying to convince him that no, no! He doesn't actually have to sing...

They drag Sollux up on stage with them and shove a microphone in his hand. "So I'm just supposed to be saying this? Uh, ok, you see a faded sign at the side of the road, that says, fifteen miles to the..."

"Loooooove shack!!!" Feferi sings. Sollux manages to get through the whole song, Feferi and Aradia doing the two female parts in absolutely flawless harmony, singing into the same mic.

A few more people come into the bar, ordering vodkas, whiskeys, and a Red Stripe, and wander over to the stage. "Be right back, bro," Dave says, grinning, waving his little slip of paper in Karkat's face. Oh man.

Aradia, Feferi and Sollux all come back to the bar once their song is over, Feferi and Aradia each holding one of his hands. Karkat gives him a sympathetic shrug, and Sollux grins back. Fuck. He really does look happy.

Dave trots back over to the bar, a wicked grin on his face. A weedy guy gets on stage and starts singing, no, screaming, Sweet Child of Mine.

They all do a couple more shots, thankfully not all Feferi's favorite, before "D-Strizzle" is called up to the stage. Karkat groans, and Dave shoots him an evil grin from halfway across the room.

"So this one is dedicated to someone. I'm sure you all already know Karkat, your bartender," Dave says into the microphone, extending a hand in Karkat's direction. A few people whoop. "I was down on my luck, riding the rails, eating beans out of a rusty can, you know, general hobo shit, when Karkat was like, hey, fellow musician, come stay at my house because I'm awesome? So. This one's for you." The intro to the song starts up, melodramatic piano chords, oh, oh no.

"Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world..."

It's fucking Journey. Karkat buries his face in his hands, heat flaming up over his cheeks. Dave can sing really fucking well. Of fucking course. He sticks it out, doing the entire song completely seriously, down to the "fee-lay-ee-yay-ains" at the end.

Karkat's humiliated grimace fades suddenly, and he starts searching frantically through all his liqueurs. He finally makes a decision, pulling out a bottle of coconut rum and pouring it and a good tablespoon of worcestershire sauce into a shot glass.

"Hey, nice job," he tells Dave when he comes back. "On me."

Dave downs the shot, his smug fucking expression instantaneously wiped clean. "Fuck!! What the...oh my god!" He's simultaneously gagging and cracking up, grabbing Aradia's tequila and downing a huge swig of it before reaching over the bar and shoving Karkat by the shoulder. Karkat shoves him back, before collapsing against the wall in laughter. "You asshole!"

"You're the asshole!" Karkat manages to get out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tree that owns itself is a real thing
> 
> It lives in a town that is a partial inspiration for this fictional town, which is like a composite of about four different towns
> 
> I was trying not to make this place be recognizable as a specific town exactly but I love that fucking tree


	4. Chapter 4

It's finally closing time. Feferi drank way too much, so Sollux and Aradia have her supported between them. She's giggling and grabbing their asses.

"G'dnight, Karkat," she slurs, grin huge and bright, albeit lopsided. Karkat waves at all three of them.

Dave is slumped a bit over the bar. Karkat sighs internally. "Come on, man, drink some fucking water." Karkat shoves a glass in his direction, and Dave grabs it and chugs the whole thing in one go.

"I'm not like, that drunk," Dave says, swaying in his seat.

"Whatever, man."

Karkat goes to lock the doors, and starts all of his closing shit. Dave is faceplanted on the bar, so Karkat slides another glass of water toward him. "Drink this one, too."

Dave complies, this time staying up, a blissful grin on his face. "You are the _best_."

"Dude, shut the fuck up. You're drunk." Karkat is blushing.

Dave leans closer over the bar, grinning this huge sloppy grin. "No, I'm fucking...serious. You. Are. The. Best."

Karkat almost brushes him off again, but pauses, warmth slowly growing in his chest. "I dunno," he says, smiling softly. "Maybe."

It's another nearly cloudless night, the moon bright and the stars crystal clear. Dave stumbles on the step down from the door, so Karkat puts an arm around his waist, steadying him. Dave's arm fits perfectly over the top of his shoulders.

Dave is laughing quietly to himself, trying and failing to match Karkat's stride. He stumbles again on the uneven sidewalk.

"Look where you're stepping, you dork," Karkat grouses, his arm tightening around Dave's waist.

When they get back to Karkat's apartment, Dave collapses face first onto the futon. "Holy fuuuuuck," he says, still grinning like crazy.

"Dude, take off your shoes," Karkat grumbles, but he's unable to keep the smile off his own face. Dave makes a half-hearted attempt to reach down to untie them, but doesn't quite have the coordination. One moment he's still laughing to himself, the next he's completely dead asleep. Karkat sighs, somehow not even a little annoyed.

Karkat heats up a hot pocket for himself, grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge, and sits next to Dave, his back against the wall. Dave is lightly snoring. Karkat shakes his head.

He's halfway through his hot pocket, watching the latter half of some heist movie on TV, when Dave sits bolt upright. He sways for a moment, then scrambles off the futon and makes a beeline for the bathroom. Karkat slowly sets down his food, wincing at the sounds of Dave being violently sick. Well, fuck.

He goes and gets another bottle of water, feeling vaguely guilty. The toilet flushes. He knows he probably shouldn't be feeling a sense of responsibility towards Dave, since Dave is actually a fucking adult and everything, but he can't help it. Dave's only been able to legally drink for about a year. He probably should have been keeping track of how many drinks he'd had, or something.

He pushes the bathroom door open and flips on the light. Dave is sprawled out over the toilet, taking huge shaky breaths. His sunglasses are on the ground. "Hey, dude, are you ok?" Karkat picks up Dave's shades and sets them on the sink, sitting crosslegged beside him.

"Yeah, just, ugh," Dave answers into the toilet. "I think...I'm ok, now, holy shit, I feel, so much better..."

Karkat holds the water bottle tightly between his hands, trying to quell the impulse to, what? He doesn't even know. The sight of Dave like this is killing him a little. "I brought you some water."

Dave reaches out blindly, head still hanging over the toilet. Karkat presses the bottle into his unsteady hand, and unscrews the cap. Dave takes an awkward sideways drink from it, swishes and spits into the toilet.

They both sit there for a few more minutes, until Dave pushes himself back and slides down fully onto the floor. "Oh my god it's so fucking cool down here," Dave gasps, the cold tile against his back. He looks up at Karkat, eyes crinkling at the corners, that same blissful smile somehow back on his face.

Holy fuck. His eyes...They're _red_. Ruby fucking red. Karkat's surprise must be showing in his expression, because Dave clumsily reaches up, feeling around on his face for his shades. "Aw, fuck." He wraps his arms around his head. "No, they're not contacts, yes, I was born this way, and yes, it's really fucking anime, I know already," he slurs.

"Dude, don't worry, I don't give a shit. I was just surprised, ok?" He twists his hands together in his lap, the urge to touch, to fix, to do _something_ almost impossible to overcome.

Dave rolls over, leaning his head on Karkat's knee. "Did I actually tell you how much you're the best, earlier?"

Karkat lets out a little low laugh, his insides crashing and burning in a fiery heap of scrap metal and inexplicable emotions. He covers his eyes with one hand. "Yeah, a few times, actually."

When he drops his hand, Dave is looking right up at him, right in the eyes, and a shiver runs right up his spine. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Thanks for letting me, stay here again, I didn't really, mean to...stay here again..."

"Shut up. I'm having a good time." _Even now?_ Dave's eyes seem to say. Karkat smiles helplessly. _Yeah._

They stare at each other for what seems like forever. Everything feels so surreal, like the two of them are wrapped in a bubble of calm, floating gently in space.

"Do you believe in past lives?" Dave asks suddenly, quietly, his expression so sweet and earnest that Karkat feels his heart swell with warmth.

Karkat knows what he means, but he doesn't know what to say. He shrugs, a gentle smile on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

Karkat wakes up with a start to his phone dinging repeatedly next to his pillow.

K4RK4T!  
COM3 TO TH3 L4K3 W1TH US  
YOU H4V3 TH3 D4Y OFF R1GHT?  
YEAH, I DO.  
LET ME GET BACK TO YOU.  
3V3RYON3S GO1NG TO B3 TH3R3  
W3LL 3XC3PT FOR K4N4Y4  
D1D YOU KNOW F3F3R1S 1N TOWN?  
YEAH, WE WERE ALL HANGING OUT LAST NIGHT AT THE BAR.  
SW33T >:)

Dave is stirring beside him on the futon. Karkat can't help but glance over. Insecurity suddenly grips him. Was Dave too drunk last night to even remember what happened between them? Karkat isn't even really sure if it even counted as something "happening between them," since nothing even _happened_ , there was just that one moment that somehow meant everything, heavy with significance and light with easy intimacy, all at once.

Karkat realizes that he's smiling softly right as Dave's eyes open. Fuck, uh, fuck.

"Hey," Dave says, voice a little hoarse, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Oh, jesus.

"Hey," Karkat replies. He is so fucked. So extremely fucked.

They wander out for breakfast after showering and changing clothes. Dave looks absolutely no worse for wear, literally bouncing next to him on the sidewalk. Fucking little shits in their early twenties and their fucking superhuman ability to avoid hangovers, what the actual fuck.

The place they went the day before is actually fairly busy. People in this town love their Sunday brunch.

Karkat insists on paying, this time, and Dave only agrees after the short battle involving items on the table culminates in Karkat pouring salt in his coffee. You should never try to escalate with a Vantas.

"Do you want to go swimming?" Karkat asks when they're back outside in the hot sun. "My friends you met last night will be there, and a couple more people I know."

"Sure!" Dave says, grinning. "Oh, dude, I would _love_ to do some fucking swimming." He fans himself with his shirt. "I don't have a swimsuit or anything, though."

Karkat shrugs. "You can borrow some shorts if you want." Dave seems satisfied with this. "Oh yeah, we should get your gear out of the bar since I'm not working today. You can just put it in my apartment or something."

"Yeah, ok. I should check on my car, too. I'll meet you at the bar!" Dave calls, already darting across the street.

Karkat stops short on the sidewalk, letting out a long breath, trying to process the events of the last two days. He stares down at the weeds growing up out of the cracks in the pavement without actually seeing them. This is fucking insane. Karkat never does anything without a plan, and he's suddenly not so sure anymore if that's a strength or a weakness.

What _is_ this? What is going _on_? Karkat _never_ gets along with people like this, not until they've known him for years. It's like Dave suddenly burst into his life and immediately started breaking through the fucking fortress of walls Karkat builds up around himself. No, that's not even it. It's like Dave doesn't even see the walls. They don't even fucking _exist_ for him. He's phasing right through them like a fucking X-Man, stepping right up to Karkat's innermost self and giving a thumbs-up.

It's totally insane, and Karkat feels desperate and exhilarated and bad about himself all at once.

He starts walking again, and reaches the bar just as Dave is pulling around the corner in an old beat up red Volkswagen hatchback. The sight of Dave driving fills Karkat with a sudden panic, like he might just decide to leave right that fucking second. He tries to tamp down on the feeling, shaking himself off, trying to be fucking reasonable, jesus christ.

Karkat meets Dave on the stairs and unlocks the doors. They make their way to the back of the bar, flipping on a couple of lights as they go. Dave throws his synthesizer bag over his shoulder, and grabs his amp, barely able to lift it. "I need to put fucking wheels on this thing," he gasps.

"Put that down, jesus," Karkat says, pushing Dave away from it. Karkat lifts the amp easily by the handle with one hand and walks towards the door.

Dave is gaping like a fish out of water. "Holy, holy shit, oh my god!" He runs around a couple yards in front of Karkat, bouncing on his heels. "You are amazing! Oh my god, oh my god, I am swooning so hard right now, you have no idea!"

"Yeah, yeah," Karkat grouses, blood rushing to his face. "Turn off the lights, will you?" Dave does so, grinning like an idiot.

Karkat lifts the amp easily into the car, and they both get in. The seats are cracked vinyl the temperature of molten lava, and Dave starts making a noise like a dying whale at the unbearable heat. He rolls down all four windows, and yeah, that barely even did anything. At least the drive is short.

Dave parks on the street across from Karkat's apartment, and the two of them carry Dave's gear inside. Karkat pulls out his phone.

YEAH, THE LAKE SOUNDS GREAT.  
Y34H! >:D  
DO YOU W4NT 4 R1D3? W3 4R3 GO1NG TO L34V3 1N 4BOUT H4LF 4N HOUR  
I HAVE A FRIEND COMING, TOO. IS THERE ENOUGH ROOM?

The little bubble showing that Terezi is texting back keeps changing from three little dots to nothing and back again. Karkat sighs. Sollux, Aradia, and Feferi handled the oh-so-very-fucking-unusual situation of him making a new friend like actual adults. He's suddenly not so sure Terezi and Vriska are going to be as easy to deal with.

Y3S TH4TS F1N3  
OK, GOOD. SEE YOU LATER. WE'LL BE AT MY PLACE.  
SHOULD I BRING ANYTHING?  
N4H, W3 M4D3 BROWN13S L4ST N1GHT  
OK, SEE YOU LATER.  
S33 YOU!

"OK, a couple of my friends are going to pick us up in about half an hour," Karkat tells Dave. He goes over to his closet and starts digging around for his own swim trunks and a pair of shorts for Dave to wear.

"Is _all_ your clothing black?" Dave asks, suddenly looking right over his shoulder. Karkat angles a glare back at him.

"Maybe," Karkat says suspiciously. 

Dave covers his mouth with one hand. "Fuckin' adorable, I'm telling you." 

Karkat shoves a pair of cutoffs in his face. Dave grabs them, grinning, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and he disappears into the bathroom. He opens the door a moment later and turns around, cocking his hips to one side. "They're a little short," he says, one arm on the door frame, looking over his shoulder at Karkat.

Karkat lets out a breath that he really hopes doesn't sound as shaky as it feels. Nope...yep, the blush is probably permanent. Uggghhhh, why...

Before long there's a car honking outside. Karkat shoves a couple of towels at Dave, slings his acoustic guitar case over one shoulder, and grabs the giant shrinkwrapped package of bottled waters from the fridge. They go out.

"Hey nerds!" Vriska yells out the window of her car. "Hurry the fuck up!"

Karkat locks the door one-handed, the waters under his other arm. "Give me a fucking second, asshole!" he yells back.

"That your new boyfriend?" she calls.

They make their way down the driveway. "If he was it'd be one more than you have!"

"Nice one, shrimp!" They high-five when Karkat gets up to the side of the car, and she rolls up the window and pops the trunk.

Vriska's car has air conditioning, thank fuck. The two of them pile into the back seat, letting out relieved breaths at the cold air blasting the fuck out of them.

"This is Dave," Karkat says once they start moving. "That's Terezi," he points at the passenger's side, "and Vriska," pointing at the driver's side.

"Sup," Dave says, raising a hand in greeting. Terezi turns almost completely around in her seat, squinting at Dave through her giant coke-bottle glasses.

"Hey Dave!" Terezi crows. "Nice to meet you! Aradia was telling me about you this morning!" Dave and Karkat share a glance. "You're from Texas?"

"Yeah," Dave answers. "I'm Karkat's long-lost brother from another mother." Karkat snorts.

"Uh huuuh," Terezi says, grinning. "Aradia said you were hot. Lemme touch your face."

Karkat huffs. "Terezi!" he protests, but Dave is already leaning forward.

"Glasses? No, sunglasses!" Terezi decides. "And an eyebrow piercing! Ooh, nice nose. Mmm, heck yeah! Aradia was right," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

Dave leans back in his seat with a crooked grin. "Who am I to argue with such a thorough appraisal of my fine facial qualities?" Karkat's head clunks against the window.

Vriska switches on the classic rock station after she merges onto the freeway, and they all groove along to All Along the Watchtower.

"Where are we going?" Dave asks after about forty-five minutes, as they're turning down an almost-hidden dirt road way out in the middle of the country.

"Who found this place again?" Terezi asks.

"Gamzee and Tavros," Karkat answers.

"We used to come here all the time during college," Terezi continues. "We call it a lake but it's not really a lake, really. You'll see. Anyway, it's on private property, we think, so there's never anyone else there. We've been coming here for years and we've never once seen another human being."

"We think whoever owns the land died or something," Vriska interjects.

"No we don't, shut up," Karkat says.

Vriska sticks her pierced tongue out at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. "They could have died and nobody would ever know. Nobody ever comes out here but us! Oh, hold on." Vriska pulls to a stop and jumps out of the car. She runs around the front, unhooking one side of a chain from a post and dropping it on the ground. She jumps back in, drives past the chain, and gets out and replaces it.

"It's not far now!" she tells Dave when she gets back in the car.

When they finally pull up, Aradia, Sollux, and Feferi are already there. Feferi waves excitedly at them from where she's tanning on a beach towel. Aradia is already swimming, and Sollux is sitting crosslegged under a large umbrella playing a 3Ds, still fully dressed.

Terezi jumps out of the car. "Feferi! Feferi?" Feferi jumps up and runs towards them, scooping Terezi up in a huge hug.

"Oh my god! I missed you guys so much!"

Vriska unlocks the trunk, and she, Karkat and Dave start carrying shit to the huge patchwork of blankets and towels the others had arranged over the grass by the edge of the water. Terezi is right -- it's not really a true lake, more like the widest area of a slow creek, but it's deep enough to swim in, and half in shade from the trees overhead. The sky is almost completely clear, the sun beating down relentlessly on anything not in the shade.

Vriska pulls off her top to reveal a bright blue beaded bikini. Her cutoff shorts are extremely short, and she pulls back her long blond hair, showing off her undercut. Terezi strips down to a turquoise and metallic gold leopard print bikini top and mismatched bright cherry red boyshorts, and she makes her way down to the water to splash Aradia. Feferi lies back down on her towel.

"Anyone hungry?" Aradia calls from the water.

"Yes!" Terezi yells from across the lake, punching the air.

"I could eat," Sollux calls out to her. Aradia gets out of the water, droplets running down from her dark red bikini over her golden brown skin. She sweeps up her long, thick hair in a practiced motion, wringing it out over the grass.

It is way too hot out here. Karkat strips off his shirt and tosses it next to his guitar case. "This is the most attractive group of friends I've ever seen," Dave whispers in Karkat's ear. "Holy shit, dude." Karkat elbows him.

Aradia makes her way over to the cooler. "I made couscous, and we brought a grill and like, hot dogs and stuff," she says, peering at the food.

They eat under the shade of the trees, playing the radio from Vriska's car. Karkat wasn't really that hungry, so he finishes before the others. Dave and Terezi seem to be getting along well, he thinks in a way that is in no way jealous, as she continuously gets all up in his personal space. Karkat's attention wanders, over the grass, over the rocks at the edge of the creek. Damn the water looks good.

He does a shallow dive into the lake, and it's fucking bliss. The sun's warmed the top two feet or so, so it feels like a fucking heated pool. He floats on his back, squinting up at the unbelievable blue of the sky.

"Hey."

Karkat flails and sinks, before getting control of himself and treading water. Dave followed him in. "Hey," he replies, wet hair hanging in his eyes.

"Your friends are great and all, but I really came here with you," Dave says. "Just, you know, in case there was any doubt about that."

Karkat blinks, unsure what to say. He reaches over and pulls Dave's shades down his nose. Dave's eyes are smiling, and the two of them float that way for a minute, just staring.

"Do you guys want some brownies?" Vriska yells from the shore.

"Yeah, just a minute!" Karkat yells back. Dave pushes his shades back up with one hand, the other resting for one heart-stuttering moment at the slight curve of Karkat's waist. He grins slowly, teasingly, and swims off. Karkat lets himself sink, his pulse thundering, the imprint of Dave's fingers on his bare skin like fire. He stares up at the sky from under the surface of the water, the image rippling and distorting, the cooler water at the bottom enfolding him.

Yep. Maybe he'll just stay down here. It'll be his brand new fucking home. There's nothing confusing or life-altering about a goddamn creek bed.

His lungful of air only lasts for so long, though, and he pushes off the bottom of the creek, air blissfully flooding his lungs as he breaks the surface.


	6. Chapter 6

Vriska and Terezi uncover their tray of brownies with a flourish. "I did the icing!" Terezi says, snickering. There's a mess of green icing on top, in what Karkat suspects is intended to be the shape of a pot leaf.

Dave looks absolutely delighted. "Oh my god, that is beautiful. High five." Terezi holds up one hand and Dave slaps it.

They each take a brownie and do an impromptu brownie toast, all holding them up in the center of the circle and sort of tapping them all together.

Waiting for drugs to take effect has to be the most boring thing in the world. Dave is chattering with Terezi, and Feferi is braiding Aradia's long hair into a fishtail. Karkat wanders over to the edge of the woods.

Sunlight shines down through the trees, speckling the ground with little flecks of gold. Karkat puts his hands in his pockets, staring deep into the trees.

Every time they come here, Karkat swears to himself that it's going to be the last time. He never has a bad time, exactly, but coming back to this place is like coming back to a childhood home: everything is far too small and the feeling is jarringly wrong. He remembers nights here, sleeping under the stars, watching the Milky Way rotate around him and his bandmates like the whole universe was theirs to keep. He remembers scorching hot afternoons and warm beer, the impossible brightness of the sun, and the cool, hushed refuge of the forest, voices muffled by the trees. He remembers bonfires, sparks rising into the sky like a wild offering to a wild god, Damara dancing as if possessed, her long hair flying, as he and Gamzee and Meenah jam together, perfectly in sync.

He hates himself for missing them. They were bad for him, sometimes cruel to him. But he's never been as close to another human being before or since, and when they made music, it was like they were all connected, the same collective unconscious threading through all of their minds.

Karkat lets out a long breath, taking one last look at the woods. Maybe this time really will be the last.

He walks back to the group and unzips his guitar bag, pulling out his acoustic and tuning it. There's still music playing from Vriska's car, and Karkat plays a little alongside it, strumming the chords at first before breaking into a subdued lead melody. Dave sits down beside him, and they exchange a long glance.

The song changes, and Karkat confidently strums along. Feferi laughs delightedly and starts clapping in time with the music.

"She grew up in an Indiana town, had a good-lookin' mama, who never was around..." Feferi sings, swaying back and forth. "But she grew up tall and she grew up right, with them Indiana boys on them Indiana nights..."

Aradia chimes in with a "woo, ooh, ooh, ooooh," and gets up to dance, hips swaying to the beat. Feferi gets up to join her, still singing.

"Last dance with Mary Jane, one more time to kill the pain," they sing together in harmony, dancing close, Feferi's arms around Aradia's neck, pale skin against brown. Terezi and Vriska start dancing, too, hands clasped, and Aradia and Feferi pull Sollux up between them. The sun is sinking down a tiny bit behind the trees, sending shadows out over the surface of the water, and Karkat can feel relaxation start to spread through his body, all the way to the tips of his fingers. He leans into the solo in the middle instrumental break, letting his eyes slip closed. The music overflows him, the beat sinking into his bones, his fingers sliding knowingly, confidently, over the strings.

When he finally opens his eyes, he glances over at Dave, and Dave's expression sends a wave of goosebumps prickling over his skin. Dave is staring at him, lips slightly parted, leaning forward just slightly, and with a surge of heat Karkat realizes he's actually _breathing_ hard.

Karkat bites down on his lower lip, pleasure washing over his entire body. He lets his head fall forward, still playing, trying to keep his breathing steady. The voice in his head that's been telling him that this is crazy, that he shouldn't be encouraging this, that there's no way he should get involved with this fucking kid from another state is being drowned out, until he can't hear it at all. Karkat bobs his head with the beat, finally looking over at Dave again, leveling every feeling he's been afraid to acknowledge in one glance.

Dave's mouth drops open completely and he lets out one long, shaky breath, his hands tightening on his knees. "Fuck," he mouths, and Karkat's skin is on fire.

As soon as the song ends, Dave gets up and heads over to the water, sinking down unsteadily into the shallows. Karkat sets his guitar aside and follows him.

"I wish this water was colder," Dave whispers directly in Karkat's ear, the heat of his breath giving him chills. Everything is so bright. The water feels incredible lapping against his skin, cool and smooth, and Dave slides deeper into the lake, until only his shoulders are above the surface. He holds out his hands. Karkat takes them without hesitation.

"Fuck, me too," he says with heat, and their hands tighten together, until it feels like they're hanging on to each other for dear life. "What do we do?" Karkat asks helplessly.

Dave lets out a surprised laugh, his hand sliding up Karkat's arm to his bicep. Karkat takes a shaky breath, aftershocks of pleasure cascading over his skin. "You are so fucking hot, I can't believe it," Dave says, voice low.

Karkat shudders, heat throbbing all the way to his core. "I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so bad I don't even know what to do with myself," he hears himself say.

Dave lets out a low moan, taking Karkat's hand and pressing it to the front of his shorts. "Oh please, please, please," he whispers. "Look what you're fucking doing to me..." Karkat lets his head fall forward, drawing a sharp breath in through his teeth.

"Later, oh my god, later, I promise," Karkat says, desperately, fingers sliding down over rough denim, over the metal teeth of Dave's fly, squeezing once before withdrawing entirely.

"OK," Dave says, panting, and splashes water over his face. "OK, fuck, fuck..."

They swim to opposite ends of the lake to try to calm down. Karkat floats. It feels like every inch of his skin is alight, and he tries to breathe deeply, tries to clear his head. Right now his thoughts are so difficult to grasp, like dragonflies on the surface of the water, dancing out of reach. Is he at a crossroad, or has he already traveled so far down one path that he'll never be able to get back to the other?

Karkat digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, gritting his teeth. This is so stupid. How can he act like he's facing some big decision when, deep down, he'd already made up his mind long ago to fuck Dave Strider?

Those words in their realness send heat washing over him, and a thousand suppressed images fight to the surface in his mind in stuttering snapshots: Dave on his knees, eyes half-lidded, hands on Karkat's hips; Dave on his back, mouth open, hands twisting in the sheets; Dave riding him, hands sliding all over his own body; Dave with his face buried in a pillow, each thrust wrenching a desperate moan from him.

Karkat bites down on his lip, heat flooding his face. Yeah, this is really, really not helping.

The two of them eventually make it back to shore, exchanging a knowing glance as they step out of the water. The others are lying around on the blankets, talking.

"Did you have a good swim?" Aradia asks with a small smile, eyes half-lidded.

"Dude, the water feels so fucking amazing, you guys have got to try it," Dave says. Terezi sits up.

"Oh my god, that is the _best_ idea," she says. "It is so fucking hot!"

They all sit in the shallows talking until the sun drops completely below the horizon. Karkat feels drowsy and buzzed, lying on his stomach in the grass, watching the last few fireflies of the year sparkle in the deepening darkness of the woods. He tries to be subtle about it, but his eyes keep being drawn like magnets to the lines of Dave's body more often than he means for them to, tracing across his shoulders, down the curve of his back, along his waist, his hips, his thighs.

He and Dave smile at each other as they help pack up the cars. The ride home is a sleepy blur of streetlights and a Springsteen cassette turned down so far it's barely audible, Dave's fingers laced tightly together with his own on the middle seat.

When Vriska pulls up in front of Karkat's apartment, Dave squeezes his hand one more time before letting go. They slowly pull their shit out of the trunk, and Karkat hears Dave thanking Vriska for driving them out there before she leaves. They make their way downstairs, and Karkat dumps everything in a pile just inside the door.

Karkat kicks off his shoes and falls into bed. For the moment the futon cover is still cool, and he feels like he could just sink forever into the softness of it. "Ahh, oh my god."

Dave puts his sunglasses on the entertainment center and follows, leaning over Karkat, one hand sliding over his stomach to rest at his waist. Karkat hums with pleasure, running a hand up Dave's arm to his shoulder, then up his neck to his cheek. Dave leans into his hand, his eyes fluttering shut.

Karkat sits up, his arms going around Dave's waist, pulling their chests flush together, their cheeks touching. Dave feels amazing, warm and solid and alive, and Karkat runs his palms over his back, feeling the way his lungs swell with every shaky breath.

Dave has his arms wrapped around Karkat's shoulders, holding on tightly. Karkat can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He's completely blown away suddenly, that Dave can be this affected by this, this affected by _him_ , and his arms tighten around Dave's waist, hands bunching up the soft cotton of his t-shirt. He buries his face in Dave's neck. Oh, _fuck_ , he smells good.

The mood from before has calmed, transformed, into something much slower and less urgent. They sit together for a long time, their arms around each other, just breathing, sharing space.

Dave pulls back just slightly, sliding his arms down from Karkat's shoulders, hands coming to rest at either side of his face. They lock eyes, and Karkat feels himself melt completely at the little furrow between Dave's brows before he tilts his chin up and brings their lips together.

Dave makes the softest, neediest little sound, and Karkat feels heat thrum through him. He tightens his arms, deepening the kiss, and he can feel Dave smiling against his mouth.

They break apart, panting, foreheads together. Dave is running his fingers through Karkat's hair, hands shaking, grinning like an idiot. Karkat feels like he might suffocate from the heat, both from the stuffiness of his apartment and the molten line where their bodies meet. The back of Dave's shirt is damp with sweat.

Dave sits up straight, pulling his shirt off over his head, and flops backwards onto the futon. His chest is heaving. Karkat strips his off, too, flinging it over the side of the bed, and rests his hands on Dave's hips, right where rough denim becomes warm skin. He slides them upwards, over Dave's stomach, over his chest, down his arms to his wrists. He pushes them up, over the sheets, until he's pinning them to the mattress on either side of Dave's head, thigh pressing insistently between his legs. Dave makes a strangled sound, his lower lip between his teeth.

Karkat feels his stomach drop with urgent heat. Oh, fuck, _fuck_. He wants to _wreck_ this kid.

They kiss for what feels like hours, Karkat purposefully keeping it slow, not allowing Dave to escalate things, until Dave is a moaning, panting mess. Dave seems ready to cry with relief when Karkat finally unzips his shorts, and when they come, it's like the bursting of a dam, water sweeping them up, overcoming them, pulling them under.

They lay together for a long time, looking into each other's eyes, Dave laughing quietly to himself, trailing his fingers idly over Karkat's skin. They fall asleep together, Dave's head pillowed on Karkat's shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

Karkat wakes up slowly, and it sounds hot as fuck outside. The buzzing of the cicadas in the trees builds to a deafening pitch, and dies down again. Dave stirs a little in his arms, and Karkat runs the tips of his fingers lightly up his spine, resting them at the nape of his neck. Dave smiles against his chest.

"I was dreaming that we were in space," he says, drowsily, and Karkat twists one of his curls around one finger, unable to keep from smiling.

They shower together, the cool water like heaven against their skin as they share a heavy, open-mouthed kiss under the spray. They fuck against the shower wall, Karkat's face buried in the back of Dave's neck, their hands clasped together against the chipped tile.

"Aw, man, I have _got_ to do some laundry," Dave says, water still glistening on his skin, frowning down into his backpack.

"There's a laundromat down the street, you could do a load while we eat breakfast," Karkat replies, pulling a t-shirt over his head. "Do you want to borrow some clothes?"

Dave's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "Uh, yeah, I would."

Karkat tries not to watch as Dave puts on a pair of his pants without underwear. Holy shit does he feel pathetic. This is his life, now, feeling like a total loser about how much he wants Dave Strider. Karkat doesn't know how to speculate about how long it will actually _be_ a factor in his life, and he tries and fails to push the thought out of his head.

Dave turns around from the closet, holding up a red t-shirt that has "Edge of Chaos" scrawled on it in faded sharpie. "Oh my god, can I wear this one?"

Karkat frowns. He didn't even remember that he still _had_ that shirt. "Man...no, don't wear that. That's my old band, come on."

Dave gives him a flirty grin. "Yeah, and I'm a fan of yours, so..."

"You've seen me play literally once."

"That's all I needed, dude."

Karkat sighs. "Come on, seriously, don't."

"OK, OK." Dave seems to sense his genuine discomfort, and puts the shirt back in the closet.

Karkat twists his hands together in the uncomfortable silence that follows. "I just don't like thinking about them, OK?" he admits. Dave turns back around, a sympathetic twist to his mouth, a plain black t-shirt in his hands. He pulls the shirt over his head, and leans down to give Karkat a soft kiss on the mouth.

"Sorry, dude."

"It's OK."

Dave hugs him by the shoulders. "I have this bad habit of stepping way over personal boundaries when there's somebody I want to fuck, so seriously, just tell me to step off."

Karkat leans into Dave's shoulder, tension flowing out of him like an exhale. "Yeah, OK."

"And these pants are too big," Dave says, sounding disappointed, stepping back a little and holding up the hem of his shirt, showing how they're slipping halfway down his hips. Karkat huffs and gets him a belt.

They walk down the sidewalk to the laundromat. The humidity is absolutely brutal. Karkat doesn't think he's ever going to be dry again. He glances up at Dave before he even knows what he's doing, and Dave grins down at him, hands on the straps of his backpack.

The inside of the laundromat is even hotter than outside, if that's even fucking possible, and the two of them groan in dismay. Dave dumps an entire backpack full of clothing into the washer, and coaxes quarters from a change machine that's probably twice his age.

"Want to go somewhere different for breakfast?" Karkat asks when they step out into the sunlight. Dave nods eagerly.

"Fuck yeah!"

Karkat takes them to a bakery down the street. "They have the best coffee in town here, I think," he says as he pushes on the enormous old door.

They eat bagels and bear claws under the shade of an umbrella outside the bakery, Dave flicking poppyseeds at Karkat from across the table with one hand while the other lifts a coffee mug to his lips. "This coffee _is_ really good."

"Fuck right." Drinking hot coffee in such hot weather is pretty much fucking torture all the time, but Karkat hates iced coffee with a passion. He nods at Dave's mug. "I keep meaning to say, I don't meet a lot of other people that drink black coffee."

"Me either," Dave says, and holds out his mug. "Black coffee bro club." Karkat clinks his mug against Dave's. "What is even the fucking point of putting a bunch of shit in coffee? The point of coffee isn't the taste, it's the entire, you know, experience. And once you get used to that, it starts to taste good."

"Yeah."

"I don't understand how that shit works at all," Dave says with a huge grin.

Karkat snorts. "I started drinking it this way because I thought it was more badass, believe it or not. Who gives a shit? Nobody gives a shit. But yeah, you're right."

They sit in silence for a little while, sipping their coffee, and Karkat stares out at the kudzu absolutely carpeting the side of the hill across the street. Dave slides his leg farther under the table, so that it's pressed against Karkat's. Karkat raises an eyebrow at him. "Hey."

"Hey," Karkat says suspiciously.

Dave leans towards him, chin in one hand. "What's wrong?"

Karkat slumps down against the back of his chair. "Sorry. I'm just thinking too much, as per fucking usual." He waves a hand.

"About us, right?" Dave says, mouth twisting.

"...Yeah."

Dave hooks his sneaker around the back of Karkat's ankle. "I never wanted this to be a one-night thing, if that's something you're wondering. Well, not after the very beginning, anyway. You were kind of a lot of work," Dave says, waggling his eyebrows.

Karkat huffs and slides down farther in his seat. He's never met anyone else that can make him feel so simultaneously complimented and insulted. It's sort of a unique experience. "Are you OK with that, though? I mean, seriously? I'm like ten years older than you, man."

Dave shrugs. "I'm into it."

Karkat digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, letting out a frustrated growl. "Ugh."

One red sneaker slides halfway up his shin. Dave takes one last sip of coffee, and sets the mug back on the table with a decisive tap. "I could be hella into it. Maybe this is my number-one kink, you don't even know. And anyway, I'm pretty sure you were there for last night, too, dude."

Karkat sighs, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "Yeah. I definitely was."

Dave is still smiling at him. "Playing shit by ear has worked pretty well so far for us, so, I mean, let's just see what happens?"

This is insane. There's no way this can possibly work. Dave is one of the most attractive people he's ever met, that is not in question whatsoever. He doesn't doubt Dave's attraction to him, either. It couldn't be any more blatant. But Dave leaves tomorrow, and even if he didn't, Dave is going to eventually start to break down whatever mystique he's built up around Karkat because of his age or his profession or whatever, and that's going to be it.

"Dude. Don't worry, it'll be OK." Dave pushes his shades up on top of his head, leaning over the table, an earnest look in his eyes that makes Karkat halfway believe him. He trails a deliberate fingertip over the back of Karkat's hand, and Karkat's ears burn.

They collect Dave's laundry from the dryer and head home, walking so close they're almost touching. As soon as the door closes behind them, Dave is taking his hands, sliding his thumbs along Karkat's palms.

"I might need help getting out of these clothes. You know, since they're yours and all," Dave says, smirking. Fine. Fine. You know what? Fine.

He yanks Dave down into a kiss, hands fisted in his hair, sinking his teeth into Dave's lower lip. Dave makes a strangled sound, hands spasming in the front of Karkat's shirt. He pushes Dave backwards, and with a stumble Dave falls onto the bed, mouth open, limbs askew. Karkat hooks one finger under the bridge of his sunglasses and yanks them off, tossing them lightly onto the entertainment center.

Dave is still staring with his mouth open as Karkat yanks his own shirt off, only seeming to remember himself after a moment. He struggles out of his, too, and starts on the fly of his pants. Karkat grabs his pant legs by the bottom hem at each ankle, pulling them off with a jerk.

"Turn over," he snaps, and Dave lets out a whine that punches him deep in the gut.

Karkat fucks him into the mattress, each thrust met by a desperate moan that Dave is clearly trying to stifle in the pillow. Dave's hips slam back into his with every thrust, and before long Dave is stiffening, arching, wailing into the pillow, and the sound of it wrenches an orgasm out of Karkat, his fingers digging into Dave's hips, blood roaring in his ears.

Dave is still moaning, holding the pillow to his face with both arms, trembling all over. Guilt hits Karkat with unforgivable finality, and he hesitates, hands hanging, shaking, over Dave's back. "Jesus, I'm sorry, fuck, fuck, I am so sorry, fuck..."

With one last moan Dave flops over, looping his arms around Karkat's neck, smoothing trembling hands over his shoulders, chest heaving. He pulls Karkat down into a sloppy kiss, whimpering and arching against him.

"You're the winner," Dave manages to get out after a few minutes. "You found it, my biggest kink, congratulations, your prize is me never leaving this fucking bed, not, not ever. Shit, oh, fuck, I'm gonna get another boner just thinking about it, ohhh, _fuck_..."

Karkat falls back against the mattress, letting out an incredulous breath and running his hands over his face. This is ridiculous. It's fucking absurd. He can't fucking believe it.

When he drops his hands to his sides, Dave is looking at him, head propped up on one hand. "Are you OK?" There's a little furrow of worry in between his eyebrows.

Karkat wants that expression to be gone. He smushes a hand in Dave's face. "Pretty much never." Dave grabs him by the wrist, placing a long, open-mouthed kiss to his palm. "Thanks for, uh, asking, though," Karkat manages to get out.

"Seriously, if there's something you don't want to do, let me know, OK? Even if I'm being a total slut about it." Dave puts his head on Karkat's shoulder, resting one hand on his chest. "I mean it."

Karkat feels his heart break. Images flash through his head, of past nights with past lovers, of mutual confusion and self-loathing, of hands and mouths in pitch black bedrooms, of being treated like a shameful, dirty secret. He's never discussed sex so openly with someone. Never once has anyone checked to make sure he was OK. It makes him almost unbearably uncomfortable, and at the same time warmth is spreading outward from his chest, stinging behind his eyes.

He has to try to meet Dave halfway on this. He's ashamed of himself, that a kid almost a decade his junior is so much more adult about sex than he is. He puts an arm over his eyes to make the words easier to get out. "I'm not...as good at this as you are. I'm not...used to being able to talk about this stuff."

"Oh," Dave says, hand tightening a little.

Karkat lets out a shaky breath. "It's so fucking stupid and I hate it. I hate that my generation is a bunch of bitter, emotionally-stunted assholes. I wish I grew up thinking that who I am isn't...wrong..."

Dave is rubbing a palm over his chest, thumb brushing his collarbones.

"So I don't even know if I can really tell whether I'm OK or not."

Dave presses a kiss to his shoulder. "We'll figure it out," he says, voice hushed. "I promise."


	8. Chapter 8

For the billionth time, Karkat tries to strangle the fleeting desire for a cigarette. He hasn't smoked them in almost six years, but the craving is still there, haunting the back of his head like the memory of an ex-lover. So he pushes the thought away like he always does, like he tries to do with most of his thoughts. His subconscious is probably a fucking cesspool by now, a roiling mess of lust and guilt and self-loathing.

He's fucking this up. He's currently in the process of fucking this up, literally right this very second. Dave is like no one he's ever met, so carefree and secure in his own self that it makes Karkat want to give up forever on his long, perilous climb up the wall of thorns that consists of all of his collective attempts to become a better person. Just give up, let go, fall into oblivion.

Dave tried to make things less awkward after their earlier conversation. He tried really hard. But somehow Karkat kept dragging things back around to awkwardness, despite the constant reminder of HE IS LEAVING TOMORROW that's stabbing repeatedly at the back of his mind. They're watching midafternoon TV now, some buddy cop show from the 70s, and Dave isn't even making any jokes.

Say something. Say something. Fucking _say something_.

"Wanna get stoned and walk around in the woods?" Karkat blurts out, and immediately wants to crawl under the bed and stay there forever.

"Sure."

Getting stoned and walking around in the woods is something Karkat does a lot. Sometimes he just wanders, sometimes he takes a guitar, playing for hours with his back to a tree, watching the canopy sway, watching the progress of the sun across the sky until it sinks below the hills. He has to meet Dave halfway. He has to make that ugly voice in his head that constantly reminds him of his flaws eat its fucking words.

The two of them pass a bowl back and forth, and Karkat feels a little guilty about the way so much anxiety seems to flow out of his lungs with the smoke.

It's still scorching hot outside and sticky with humidity, but this time Karkat feels a little separate from it, like he's watching his body from another, quieter dimension. He leads the way down a path out the tiny backyard of his apartment building and onto the street.

They walk in silence, but it's maybe not as unbearable a silence as it had been. When they reach the edge of the woods, Karkat slips his hand into Dave's, and they make their way under the trees.

It's a tiny bit cooler here, and the sound of traffic fades. Cicadas whirr and buzz in the trees above them, swelling and fading in huge waves that seem to span the entire forest. Karkat drops Dave's hand, and slides an arm around his waist.

"Sorry, man," he says, a little gruffly, a little more tension slipping away as Dave puts an arm around his shoulders.

"It's OK." They walk in silence for what feels like a long time. The sun shines down through the trees, lining each blazing green leaf with a white hot glow. Karkat feels like they're moving so slowly, the humidity weighing them down.

"I come here a lot," Karkat finally brings himself to say. "Never with, uh, anyone else, though." Dave's arm tightens on his shoulders. "It's about as far removed from where I grew up as anything could possibly fucking be, I guess, is why I keep coming back here. And I guess what I'm trying to get at is, uh...wait." Words jumble up on his tongue, all fighting to remain unsaid. They suddenly evaporate, leaving him with nothing.

Dave is nodding, so Karkat manages to get a grip on his thoughts.

"The only time I was ever out in the woods as a kid was once during the, what was it, three months? Where I was in boy scouts when I was like seven. I didn't get along with other kids, so my father was hoping to, I don't know, give me some fucking structure or some shit. I hated it then, it was uncomfortable, and it got cold as fuck at night, and the other kids were pretty much like, openly hostile towards me...I don't know why I'm telling you this."

Dave stops walking, taking Karkat's hands and sitting crosslegged at the base of a large tree. Karkat follows, sitting in front of him, their knees touching. "Don't stop. I'm listening."

Karkat shrugs, eyes fixed on their clasped hands. "But it's different here. So many living things? I don't feel, alone, out here, for some reason. It sounds stupid as fuck but I understand why everyone used to believe in like, forest gods, or just like, gods of nature. It sort of feels like this place has this...presence, the whole woods, I mean. I know it's all in my head, but...fuck. I didn't really mean to say that to anyone, ever."

"I've never really been out in the woods before," Dave says. "I grew up in downtown, seriously downtown Houston. There's like, barely even a blade of grass." He turns Karkat's hands over, lacing their fingers together. It feels amazing. "We didn't have the money to go on vacations. Except once, when we drove out west, looked at cactuses and shit, and my sister and I almost got lost in the desert. My mom says she could always see us, but man, we were starting to freak out," he laughs. "Well, I was, anyway."

"How old is your sister? Older? Younger?"

"She's my twin. She's older by four minutes and twenty three seconds."

"Oh, that's...cool."

"What about you? Have any siblings I should know about?" Dave grins.

Karkat sighs. "I have one brother. Older. We don't talk."

Dave's face kind of falls. "Oh, dude, I'm sorry."

"It's whatever. He doesn't want anything to fucking do with me, and I've made my peace with that, I guess." Dave is looking quizzically at him, so he sighs and continues. "He went into the Church like my father wanted, he wanted that for me too, but. Fuck. That. I never even told them I liked guys, I knew they wouldn't be able to take it. I just left home at eighteen and never came back. I kept in touch with my brother for a little while, but he hasn't replied to any messages I've sent him in...years."

Dave squeezes his hands, and Karkat gives him a little half-smile. "That really sucks." Dave actually sounds sad. "My sister and I are so fucking close. I don't know what I'd do if she stopped talking to me. I would probably die," he says, his head bowed.

Karkat wants Dave to stop making that face. All these things are old history to him, his memories finally numb after years of picking and worrying at them. Karkat wants to say something to make it seem OK, to make it sound like not such a big deal. But it is a big deal, he realizes suddenly. It's petty and tragic and horrible. "Don't...don't worry. I'm...ugh. Fuck it. What do your parents do?"

"My mom is a computer programmer." Dave says, enthusiasm growing in his voice. "She didn't even finish high school, because she was pregnant with us, but she went back to school when we were older and completely just, owned everyone. She is so cool." Karkat realizes with a start that he might be closer in age to Dave's mother than he is to Dave. Oh, jesus, fuck. "My dad..." Dave pauses, his mouth turning down at the corners. "I haven't seen him since I was eleven. Mom finally left him and he disappeared. He..." Dave shakes his head. "Fuck him. Dude, can we talk about something else?"

Karkat squeezes Dave's hands. "Fuck yes."

"I'll tell you sometime. I just don't want to right now."

Karkat is giving Dave a soft kiss on the forehead before he even knows what he's doing. Dave visibly melts. "I, uh..." Karkat looks down, smiling, face hot. "Yeah."

Dave pushes his shades up on top of his head, and his smile is so completely smitten that Karkat feels the force of it, bright and soft, sinking all the way to his core. He kisses Dave on the mouth, chaste until Dave kisses him back, and they kiss for a long time, hands clasped tightly. Dave is a...really, really fucking good kisser, Karkat thinks, a little dizzy.

They kiss for what feels like hours, just exploring, just feeling, hands slowly roaming, touching. It feels like Karkat's senses have been turned up, enhanced, his skin buzzing with pleasure, as Dave's hands clench in the front of his shirt. Karkat feels entirely surrounded by heat, enclosed by it, and he gasps against it as Dave bites down on his lower lip. His hands bury themselves in Dave's hair and pull, just slightly. Dave lets out a whine that makes the breath catch in Karkat's throat.

Rain begins to fall, the first few drops smacking the leaves above them, then absolutely pouring onto them like water from a glass. They both jump to their feet, bursting into shocked laughter, looking hopelessly back the way they came. Dave holds his arms out from his body, already soaked from head to toe, water running off his hands. "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

Karkat is cracking up. "Sorry, man! It does this a lot this time of day!" he practically has to shout over the sound of the rain.

Dave grabs him around the waist, kissing him deeply. He's giggling, his wet shirt sticking to Karkat's arms. Karkat pulls him back against the tree, his arms sliding up around Dave's neck. The rain stops as suddenly as it started, the air already perceptively cooler, and the relief from all that fucking heat is almost orgasmic. Karkat hooks a thigh around Dave's hip, pulling him closer. Dave's arms tighten around his waist.

They run home, hands clasped tightly, the water falling from the treetops, almost a second, lighter rain. As soon as they make it in the door Karkat pushes Dave up against it. He knows they're dripping all over the carpet. He doesn't give a fuck. The friction of wet denim is almost too intense as he pins Dave's hips to the door with his own.

They leave a pile of soaking wet clothes by the front door and rush to the bathroom. For the first time all weekend Karkat turns the water on warm, and it feels beautiful against his wet skin. He and Dave jump in together under the spray, Karkat pulling Dave back against the tile, echoing their position in the woods. Fuck yeah. Let's finish this.

When they come Karkat can feel Dave smiling against his neck. Karkat's head drops back against the tile, a smile spreading across his face, his arms tight around Dave's shoulders.


	9. Chapter 9

Karkat feels flushed from ears to sternum. Dave has his face between his hands, kissing him, openmouthed, sloppy, as he rides his lap, and Karkat tightens his arms around Dave's waist, thrusting up in a way that makes Dave cry out into his mouth.

"I wanna take you with me," Dave gasps out, hands not seeming to be able to keep still, thumbs brushing over Karkat's cheeks, fingers carding through his hair. "Please..."

Karkat has a million visions crowd his mind, of new cities, new streets, of Dave grinning beside him in the driver's seat of his car, the breeze from the open windows ruffling his hair. Of hands clasped between the two seats, of sleepless nights in motel rooms, of restless nights in campsites under an endless spiral of stars. He buries his face in Dave's neck, gasping, wanting desperately to follow this kid to the ends of the fucking earth.

Afterwards they lie together, Karkat's head on Dave's chest, hands still absently roaming, just touching, just feeling. Dave's heart thumps under his ear, and Karkat closes his eyes. The last thing he thinks before sleep drags him under is yes. Yes, yes, yes.

Morning comes too soon.

They stay in bed for a long time, limbs tangled, just existing in the same close space. Karkat can't get enough of the way Dave's shoulder blade slots so perfectly in the center of his palm, the way Dave's own hand feels against the back of his neck, at the curve of his waist.

"I meant it, last night," Dave says against his throat. "Come with me."

Karkat just kisses Dave roughly on the mouth.

They finally leave the apartment when they get too hungry to function. They go back to the bakery and sit down on a sunbaked stone bench, shoulders touching. Karkat feels exhausted, but the kind of exhausted one gets after a really good workout, or a really good road trip. His self feels like it's been turned inside out, but only to be washed, and now it's hanging in the sunlight to dry, billowing in the wind. They sip coffee in the sunlight, and Karkat loves the feel of it against his skin for the first time all summer.

"Let's just lay around all day and watch TV," Karkat suggests, eyes flicking up to Dave's face then down again to his coffee.

"Yeah," Dave agrees, and the hint of tenderness in his voice is almost more than Karkat can handle. "I don't have to leave until like 3:00, so yeah. Cool."

Karkat's heart plummets. It's already after 11:00.

There's nothing on TV but game shows and soap operas, and prescription drug commercials with lists of side effects that are sending Dave into fits of laughter. Karkat drags himself up off the futon and into the kitchen.

It's almost 1:00.

"If I thought there was a sun god I'd think it hated us," Dave says, shoving the hair up off his forehead. "Or maybe it likes us too much, since it's always trying to like, peep through the blinds and shit? Trying to get a big ol' eyeful of tit?" Karkat snorts.

Earlier Karkat had put some of bottles of water in the freezer, and he can't stop checking on them to see if they're frozen yet. They aren't really, but there's a shallow layer of ice on each surface, and Karkat decides that's fucking good enough. The water's cold, anyway. He grabs two, and reluctantly closes the freezer door. Man that air felt good on his face.

"Here." Karkat tosses a bottle to Dave, and Dave catches it.

"Oh my god," Dave groans, putting the bottle against his forehead. "Holy fuck..."

Karkat climbs back onto the futon, straddling Dave's hips. It's probably way too hot to actually fuck, but this is really nice anyway. Dave laughs, shoving his water bottle under the back of his neck and grabbing Karkat's hips.

"I love what a serious expression you have," Dave says, eyes hooded, and the affection in his voice makes Karkat's ears burn. "Terezi and I were talking about it, how serious you are, and how adorable it is," he continues, grinning ear to ear.

"You were talking to Terezi about _me_?" Karkat stares at Dave, mouth open.

Dave's eyebrows waggle. "Yeah, duh. I have all the dirt now, dude. All of it."

Karkat narrows his eyes. "No, you can't have all the dirt, because there is absolutely no dirt of any kind to fucking have," he growls, and pours a good quarter of his water bottle out onto Dave's shirt. Dave lets out this wounded little shriek, squirming and giggling under Karkat's weight.

"That's what you think!" he laughs, grabbing again at Karkat's hips, grinding up against his ass.

OK, so, not too hot to fuck, apparently.

Dave eagerly wriggles out of his wet shirt as soon as Karkat starts shoving at the hem, and as soon as it hits the floor Karkat is pinning Dave's wrists to the mattress and kissing him roughly on the mouth. Dave arches eagerly, returning the kiss just as enthusiastically, and Karkat can't stand how much he wants him. He feels horny and desperate and pathetic and just wants Dave, just like this, right here, all the time. His eyes burn, and he bites down hard on Dave's lower lip. Dave's hips buck, and Karkat shoves Dave's head to the side with his own, leaving an angry trail of bite marks down the side of his neck and along his shoulder. Dave whines, chest heaving.

 _Stay with me,_ Karkat wants to say with every press of Dave's wrists against the mattress, with every kiss that's more teeth than lips. _Stay with me, Dave, please._ He lets go of Dave's wrists and grabs him by the shoulders, pulling him up, back, wrapping his arms tightly around Dave's chest, still straddling his lap. Dave's arms loop weakly around his neck, and he's letting out these little breathy moans that are turning Karkat inside out.

Karkat wraps his legs around Dave's hips, tightening one arm around his back and using the other hand to pull Dave's head back by the hair. He devours Dave's mouth, and Dave's hands are shaky against the sides of his face. Karkat hates himself. He hates how he's acting, hates how desperate he must seem, hates how he has Dave so close, right here, right now, but it's not enough, could never be enough.

Afterwards Karkat feels like a burnt-out match, crumbling to ash. He buries his face in Dave's chest, his throat tight, eyes still burning, as Dave cards his fingers through his hair, twisting it, coiling it, brushing over the shortest hairs at the back of his neck with his fingertips.

Neither of them seems to know what to say.

"I know you can't come with me," Dave says, finally, voice rough, and Karkat's heart breaks at how tired he sounds, and how sad. He pushes himself up on one arm. Dave's eyes are closed.

It's 2:00.

They shower silently, taking turns under the spray. Karkat makes a ham sandwich as Dave packs his clothes, and he hands it to Dave in a baggie along with a bottle of water. Dave's whole face contorts as he takes them, and he drops them into his backpack, grabbing Karkat around the waist and burying his face in his neck. Karkat hugs him back, as best he can.

"Give me your phone," Dave says, turning his face away, but not before Karkat sees the way his lips were trembling. Karkat hands it over, and Dave grabs his sunglasses off the entertainment center and sits down on the edge of the futon with it.

"I put my number in there," Dave says after a little while, holding out the phone. Karkat can see his own reflection in his shades. "I already texted myself, so I have yours, too, and I promise I'm gonna text you so much, you're gonna be like, damn, Dave is annoying as shit..."

Karkat nods, taking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. He goes over to his closet and pulls out the shirt Dave had been so eager to wear the other day. He throws it at Dave, who fumbles it, one backpack strap already over his shoulder. "You should just uh, have that," Karkat mutters, arms crossed over his chest. Dave stares back at him for a moment before nodding, clutching the shirt tightly in his hands.

Karkat winces as he opens the door. It shouldn't be this bright outside. It shouldn't be this beautiful.

They walk to Dave's car in silence. Karkat's eyes are fixed on the pavement, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Dave fumbles his keys at the driver's side door, and throws the shirt and his backpack into the passenger's seat.

"Bye, I guess," Dave says, turning to face Karkat. His expression is terrible, and Karkat feels sick. "We'll work it out. We'll work something out. I promise," Dave blurts out, grabbing Karkat by the shoulders. Karkat hugs him tightly around the waist, closing his eyes, breathing in.

It's 3:00.

Dave's car disappears around the corner, and Karkat makes his way back to his apartment, feet moving automatically, passing over the sidewalk as if someone else is controlling him. He closes his door and leans against it.

Silence presses in against him, almost tangible, and heavy.

PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE FREE TONIGHT, EVEN JUST FOR AN HOUR.  
HALF AN HOUR.  
I REALLY NEED TO SEE YOU.  
PLEASE.  
Is Everything Alright  
NO.  
Yes Absolutely I Can See You Karkat  
Would You Like To Come Over  
YES.


	10. Chapter 10

karkat karkat  
i am bored as fuck  
YEAH, NO SHIT.  
WHERE ARE YOU, AGAIN? INDIANA?  
yeah  
never thought id say it but i miss the fuck out of kentucky  
HA.  
the road i had to take to get to this town was insane  
theres no legit highway its just this narrow ass back road through the fucking murder woods  
anyway what are you doing tonight  
I ACTUALLY DON'T HAVE WORK FOR ONCE. I'M PROBABLY GOING TO HANG OUT WITH SOLLUX.  
DO SOME GAMING, WORDLESSLY BEMOAN OUR SEX LIVES, YOU KNOW.  
FEFERI LEFT THREE DAYS AGO, AND ARADIA JUST LEFT TO GO OUT ON A DIG WITH HER STUDENTS. SO WE'RE BOTH SORT OF HIGH AND DRY, HERE.  
lol  
man  
last night there was this chick at my show that i think made it her goal in life to fuck me  
she was hot af but man i just didnt even want to  
OH, REALLY?  
FINALLY GETTING BORED OF YOUR LIFE OF INDISCRIMINATE HOOKUPS?  
yeah dude no matter how hard i try i cant get you out of my head  
HMM. YOU'D BETTER NOT BE TRYING VERY FUCKING HARD.  
i dunno i might need a little more encouragement  
you dont know how lonely it is out here on the road dude  
constantly being tempted by hipsters with tongue piercings and free drugs  
OH, DAMN. SORRY I'M SOMEHOW MORE DESIRABLE THAN BOTH OF THOSE THINGS.  
I GUESS I JUST CAN'T HELP IT.  
yeah your ass would launch a thousand ships dude  
WOW. I DON'T THINK MY ASS HAS EVER BEEN SO THOROUGHLY COMPLIMENTED.  
man you havent even experienced the extent of how thoroughly i can compliment your ass  
HAHA, HOLY SHIT.  
great now im lonely and horny  
WHERE ARE YOU STAYING TONIGHT?  
i was actually thinking about getting a motel room  
might there be i dunno some sort of reason i might want to get a motel room karkat  
FUCK RIGHT THERE MIGHT BE.  
ok yeah done  
im gonna sext you so fucking hard  
OH MY GOD.  
aw fuck i gtg i need to soundcheck  
OK. TALK TO YOU LATER.  
you fucking bet you will

Karkat slides his phone back into his pocket, blushing furiously. Heat is already pooling in his stomach. He hasn't felt this kind of raw horniness since fucking high school and it's completely ridiculous. Even that thought is breathless and full of an emotion close to awe, instead of the self-deprecating cynicism he's usually so accustomed to. He covers his eyes with one hand, grinning uncontrollably.

The evening is the coolest one yet so far this month, and, unprecedentedly, Karkat feels a little sad. It's really nice, the way the breeze ruffles his hair, but for some reason summer has become something Karkat wishes he could grab with both hands and hold in place. He can't begin to forget what it was like. He can't.

When Sollux lets him in, air conditioning smacks him in the face. There are energy drink bottles and fast food wrappers all over the couch. "Holy shit, Sollux, Aradia's only been gone for like a day." Sollux shrugs and shoves them all onto the coffee table.

"So what. If I have an opportunity to be a total slob I'm going to fucking take it." Karkat snorts, and they both flop down on the couch. "So what do you want to play? Dynasty Warriors?"

"Yeah, whatever."

They've both made custom characters, trying to get as close to their actual appearances as possible. Sollux's actually looks fairly accurate, and it makes Karkat a little embarrassed that he'd taken some liberties with his own. Oh well. Who the fuck cares. He's mainly here to swing a scythe on a chain through thousands of peasants.

They play until the split screen framerate starts to "suck royal ass," as Sollux puts it, and they decide to switch off playing GTA. Sollux is trying to go out to sea to escape the cops, but now there are helicopters, and Karkat is laughing at him as bullets ricochet off the side of his boat. Karkat's phone buzzes.

holy shit look at this

A moment later a shadowy photo pops up of a room, totally packed with people.

IS THAT YOUR FUCKING AUDIENCE?  
shit yeah it is  
not all of them are here for me but i know at least like half of them are  
theres this whole group that came down from chicago to see me  
what the actual fuck  
HOLY SHIT  
THAT IS FUCKING AMAZING. HOLY SHIT.  
so you know how much i wanted you earlier  
just imagine what im going to feel like after this

Karkat flushes all the way to his collarbone.

I'M TRYING NOT TO. I'M NOT EXACTLY IN PRIVATE, HERE.  
HOLD ON, ARE YOU TEXTING ME FROM THE FUCKING STAGE RIGHT NOW?  
uh maybe  
GET SOME FUCKING STAGE PRESENCE, YOU COMPLETE DORK. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE NOT PLAYING YET.  
uh haha yeah ok  
think you have enough data to skype later  
NO, BUT I WILL STEAL THE *HELL* OUT OF SOME WIFI.  
thats what im talking about  
later  
LATER.

"Holy shit, Karkat, stop looking so happy, it's making me uncomfortable," Sollux whines, prodding at Karkat's shoulder with the controller. Karkat snatches it away, scowling, and Sollux laughs at him.

It's December. The lush summer green and blue sky are gone, and all that's left is dried grass and bark and the eternal grey-white cover of shitty clouds. Karkat leans on the bar, and the bland winter light shines feebly through the shutters.

dude im working on new shit please please please will you do some guitar overdubs for me  
its kind of necessary for me to keep living btw  
ive come to the conclusion that i need your sound like oxygen  
WHAT? WHY?  
what do you mean why  
ive never had live guitar on my shit before  
and the more i think about it the more i want it  
and obviously i want you to do it  
UGH. I DON'T EVEN HAVE A GOOD MIC. JUST A SHITTY 4-TRACK.  
omg yes use that i dont even care  
send me cassette tapes in the mail like its the fuckin 80s  
oh man oh man  
FINE, FINE.  
yes yes yes  
ill send you some mp3s ok  
OK, FINE.  
ok i gotta go  
love you  
LOVE YOU TOO.

It's February, and Karkat feels like he's going to crawl out of his skin. Dave is coming to visit him, finally, and Karkat is prickling with anticipation that's half terrified anxiety that something will go wrong, that something will cause Dave to _not_ show up, and whether that something takes the form of a natural disaster or sudden levity on Dave's part changes by the minute. He watches TV without really seeing it, a ball of terror on the futon, until there's a knock on the door that causes his heart to practically stop.

Dave is grinning down at him in a jean jacket and a floppy red winter hat, outlined in the bright red-orange of the setting sun, and Karkat gives him a good, long once-over before grabbing him by the front of the jacket and yanking him inside.

"I've got gear in the car," Dave says, laughing breathlessly as Karkat kisses him, over and over. "Oh...ok. I've stopped...uh...giving a shit." Karkat snickers into his neck, one thigh already pressed up between Dave's legs, pinning him to the door.

"Let's practice together," Dave says later, smiling up at Karkat, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Dave's eyes are dark, half-hooded and bottomless. Karkat can't help but smile back, helplessly, and he thinks that he's never been so desperately in love with anyone, not ever.

Karkat picks all the songs back up pretty easily. He and Dave had been passing music back and forth like crazy since January. Dave also found an old 4-track at a thrift store, and insisted they actually mail tapes back and forth to add overdubs. A month later all he was doing was complaining about how much of a pain in the ass it was, and how as soon as they got famous he was going to buy Karkat a motherfucking computer.

Dave plays along with Karkat's rhythm guitar, looping synth melodies and pressing buttons on his sampler, constantly nodding his head along with the beat as if he can't help himself.

They finish their third run through of a song, and Dave grins up from his keyboard, crosslegged on the floor. "When we get this shit down you gotta come to Houston and we _have_ to record this for real."

Karkat snorts. "Yeah maybe. What if I have more important shit to do?"

"Well, that important shit is just going to have to take a rain check, dude," Dave shoots back, looking up at Karkat over the tops of his shades. Karkat grins and plays a quick, overblown solo that makes Dave snicker.

It's June, and Dave actually drove all the way to Georgia to pick Karkat up and take him all the way back to Houston. Karkat only spends the first ten minutes after Dave gets to his apartment arguing about how he should have just let him get a greyhound ticket, because holy shit Dave just drove for twelve hours and now he's going to do it again the next day? Karkat doesn't even actually know how to drive, so now Dave's going to have to drive the whole way back. He knew that, right?

Dave flops face first down onto Karkat's futon with this enormous smile. "You don't really think I don't think it's worth it. Come on," he adds, rolling over onto his back, letting his knees fall open, slowly pulling off his sunglasses and tossing them to the mattress beside him. Karkat groans, drags a hand over his face, and crawls over Dave on the futon, kissing him sloppily on the mouth.

It's late the next night when they get back to Houston. The sky is orange with light pollution. The air is dry. Karkat slams his car door, stretching and groaning in relief as his back pops. Dave laughs at him as he grabs his backpack out of the back seat.

Dave's apartment is about twice the size of Karkat's, with two small bedrooms off the living room. One of them is is an actual bedroom, with an actual bed, and the other is completely lined with acoustic foam. There are wires _everywhere_ , snaking between synth modules and midi controllers and leftover PA speakers, some of them trailing toward the computer with the 27" monitor on a table in one corner. One wall of the living room is all windows, looking out over the city. Karkat stands at it, watching headlights glimmer back and forth in the streets below, and Dave puts possessive hands on his waist, laying little openmouthed kisses down the back of his neck.

They don't leave the apartment for days.

Much, much later, Karkat feels sweat drip down his forehead. He glances across the stage at Dave, who grins and raises his eyebrows. Karkat stomps on his distortion pedal half a beat before he launches into the chorus, all power chords and fury. Dave plays along with him, elegant in his practiced manipulation of different synths, pressing buttons, twisting knobs. Arpeggios twine around the core guitar, diamonds in a sea of static.

The crowd goes _nuts_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading :]

**Author's Note:**

> a [soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLpE0wKdqlpCRawtHFvIoOdAnyYmcaSlxK) for this fic, for those so inclined
> 
> also i'm [maybesomehomestuckart](http://maybesomehomestuckart.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, i also do art


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